Page 108 of Mother of Death and Dawn

“Hm.” He frowned, then turned to Max and reached out.

Max caught his wrist. “No.”

“Just like I said to her, no memories. Totally painless.”

“No.”

Klasto looked annoyed. “You expect me to fix all of this”—he gestured to the tattoos on Max’s exposed forearm—“andall of this”—he gestured to Max’s face, presumably his head—“all without any visibility into what the problem could possibly be? I won’t force you to do anything, darling, but it will certainly limit my options.”

Max’s teeth ground. I understood that look. He knew Klasto was right, even if he wished he wasn’t. I was the only one Max had ever willingly let into his mind. And look at where that had gotten him.

I laid my hand over his in wordless encouragement. His flesh was warm and smooth. His fingers rearranged to accommodate mine right away—so fast it surprised me, as if some intuitive response still remained even if his memories of me did not.

Max glanced at me, looking a bit startled, then back at Klasto.

“Fine,” he muttered.

Klasto, pleased, placed his hand at Max’s temple, eyes closing in concentration. Max’s eyes closed too, but more like someone bracing for impact.

A few moments later, Klasto’s eyes opened again.

“Will you stop?” he snapped.

Max looked confused. “Stop what?”

“If you’re going to let me work, then let me work.”

“Iamletting you work.”

“You’re putting walls up against me. I don’t appreciate being strung along and I—”

“I’m not putting up any Ascended-damned walls!”

Blif had looked up from her reading with mild interest. Klasto’s face slowly shifted as he realized Max was serious.

“That’s… oh, my.”

“What?” Max demanded.

“It’s just… interesting.”

Gods, I hoped that when this was all over, no one described us as “interesting” ever again.

“You have…” Klasto cleared his throat. “Many, many walls, my friend.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Klasto stood, his thoughtfulness disappearing beneath a bright smile. “It means we’ll save that bit for later, then. First, let’s tackle the obvious.” He gestured to Max’s Stratagram tattoos. “Kindly remove your clothes, please.”

“Remove my clothes?” Max repeated.

“Well, you may keep your undergarments. Provided there are no tattoos in that region.”

I choked a little at that thought.

Max looked away. “There are no tattoos in that region,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that on your behalf. Come come. Don’t be shy.”

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